


9 PM on a Thursday

by Maiden_of_the_Moon



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Genderbending, Genderswap, Humor, Lemon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-15
Updated: 2012-06-15
Packaged: 2017-11-07 19:15:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/434449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maiden_of_the_Moon/pseuds/Maiden_of_the_Moon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sex has always been more entertaining than the nightly news. SebaCiel AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	9 PM on a Thursday

**Dislcaimer:** Nope.

 **Author’s Note:** It’s not often that I get the urge to write anything lemony. Or AU-y. Or gender-bending-y. (“Old Habits” updates don’t count, because those chapters are all part of one series.) So I figured I should work on this plot bunny while the inspiration was still fresh.

 **Warnings:** AU. Lemon-ish. Megane!SebastianxGirl!Ciel. I’d almost file this under ‘crack,’ taking into account how completely-out-of-the-blue it is. Probably kinda OOC, too, since it’s a really random AU with no back story or (Lord help me) sequels planned. But whatever.

**XXX**

**Nine PM on a Thursday  
  
XXX**

“Why are we… doing this…?”

The rhythmic creaking of ancient couch springs missed a beat, emitting a squawk rather than a squeak. Haloed by the fuzzy golden glow of CNN, the tattered brown wrap-around shuddered to a momentary halt, allowing the soft, somber messages of the anchorman to penetrate the tiny room. Down a sweat-slicked nose, wire-rimmed glasses slipped a distracting half-inch.

And all the while, Ciel stared demandingly up at her bewildered husband, as if oblivious to the cock half-in/half-out of her aching womanhood.

Sebastian blinked slowly, considering. One foot anchored itself between two cushions of mocha-colored corduroy, while the other found a point of balance amidst plains of shag carpet. “Well,” he then explained, pressing onward with a push and a partially-swallowed moan, “I believe because you demanded that I entertain you…”

The young woman mewled, toes curling in pleasure as the man arched above her found her special spot. One leg, still baring a loose pink sock, wrapped around his cloth-covered back. “ _No_ ,” Ciel nevertheless snapped, tossing her head against the padded armrest, “I don’t mean… _this_ …” Her willing hips bucked in emphasis; Sebastian hissed his approval. “I mean _this_.”

A small, free hand reached suddenly outward, grabbing his own. Intertwined, they fell upon the girl’s exposed belly, the twin halves of her button-down blouse pealed back as if to exemplify the growing bulge. Unconsciously, the two adults froze at the feel of the lump; Ciel’s pale fingers trembled, blue eyes wide with mounting nerves.

But soon her husband was chuckling, bending low to kiss his way from tummy to tits. “I’m fairly certain _that_ started with you demanding that I entertain you, as well,” he purred, hand smoothing over the curve of their child, petting fingers sliding down, down, down… “And it ended with us deciding that we wanted to keep the little parasite.”

“Yeah, but… we’re idiots,” Ciel protested in a pout, even as her voice cracked with husky delight. She was no match for his skilled grinding; she decided to wait for Sebastian to pull out/slam in again before further attempting lucid conversation. “Isn’t it cruel to— _oh—_ force someone into this world? _Nnn_ , I mean… _ah!_ … the world fucking _sucks_.”

“Hmm. An astute observation,” Sebastian concurred amiably, voice muffled by skin as he kissed his way up Ciel’s porcelain throat. The heat of his breath made her blush and squiggle. “Why don’t we all just kill ourselves, I wonder?”

Ciel took a moment to consider the implications of this sardonic come-back, readjusting her legs. “…the sex,” she then decided, unable to silence a squeal as her husband nipped her neck in agreement. The playful sound soon melted into a delicious groan, and she met Sebastian’s eager pounding with an upward thrust of her own.

“There we… go, then,” the dark-haired man returned, his conversational retorts occasionally interrupted by tongued kisses and increasingly heavy breathing. “It’s only fair to give the brat… an equal chance at the ecstasy of intercourse that… you got to experience.”

The words called forth a sullen frown. Ciel shook her head— ponytail whipping exuberantly back-and-forth— as desperate, possessive nails clawed at the silken fabric of her husband’s suit shirt. “No,” she panted as she did so, sapphire gaze twinkling with black humor. “I refuse… to share you.”

It took a minute for the subtly sarcastic reply to register in the man’s orgasm-driven mind. But register it did, and it had Sebastian snorting; he locked his wife’s small hands above her, forcing her to pause. “That’s depraved,” he chastised flatly, stopping mid-thrust in punishment. Even still, his auburn eyes flickered with twisted laughter. “No joking about things like that.”

“ _Nooo_ , don’t _stop_ , you ass…!” The young woman bleated, half-annoyed and half-amused as she bucked her needy hips. But the cruel bastard simply pulled further away, leveling her a reprimanding glare. “Okay, _fine_ ,” she then grumbled, as if in defeat. “If not you, then maybe a brother or sister—”

“ _Ciel!_ ” Sebastian laughed, unable to keep face. “Good _God_ — I have teenage students with more morality than you!”

“Yeah, but you don’t like morality. That’s why you married me,” Ciel reminded, pausing in her whiny writhing long enough to flash her lover an innocuous smile. “And—just so you know— I’m starting to think that you don’t like sex, either. Which means, of course, that you won’t get any ever again… unless you go back to fucking me _right_ _now_.”

“…oh?” Always the tease, Sebastian cocked a single eyebrow, a small smirk playing with the corners of his lips. “But if that becomes the case, wherever would that brother or sister come from?”

His wife (as usual) didn’t miss a beat. “Have you seen that Mr. Druitt from apartment 4D?” she questioned sweetly, fluttering her clock-spring lashes in a mocking display of innocence. “I’m sure if I took my booty shorts out of storage I could—!”

But the taunting threat was cut off by a shriek of startled laughter, the couch positively _dancing_ as Sebastian’s free hand reacquainted itself with Ciel’s overly ticklish sides. Giggles bounced, couch springs sagged, and the conversation ended where it began: with the happy couple ignoring the qualms of the nightly news, and instead celebrating the joys of life.  

**XXX**


End file.
